


Re-animate Me

by brilliantdream (Reiyezerwyre)



Series: Delinquents on the Brink [1]
Category: Dir en grey, Visual Kei - Fandom, the GazettE
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 02:46:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10844883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reiyezerwyre/pseuds/brilliantdream





	Re-animate Me

"Kyo, dude, you’re losing your touch."

A peroxide blonde looked up from his cupped hands as he tried to light his cigarette. Once the flame caught he flicked the lighter closed, gripping the cigarette between his fingers as he sucked down his first tobacco hit of the day. Kyo knew it was bad for him, particularly at his age, but he didn’t care. If he was lucky his half-pack a day habit wouldn’t catch up with him until he hit his thirties. Closing his eyes briefly as the smoke filled his lungs he held it for a moment waiting for the burn of the nicotine to drown out the cravings. As the smoke curled in his chest he felt the tension in the back of his shoulders ease, and the annoying itch in his fingers faded.

Fuck he loved cigarettes.

With a nonchalant huff he opened his eyes the relaxants already filtering into his bloodstream, mellowing out his irritation as he let his head fall back. He was in no hurry to respond to his friend’s accusation. Being who they were they had all the time in the world.

Staring absently at the overcast sky between the awnings above them he pulled the cigarette from his lips and exhaled through his nose, relishing the gritty tingle in his lungs.

"Yeah?" he sighed dismissively, angling his head so could fix the redhead beside him with an indifferent side-wards glance. "That so, Die?"

Die shifted his shoulders against the brick wall as he lit his own cigarette, contemplating his answer even though he knew he didn’t have to tip-toe around Kyo. Once the flame caught the cherry-redhead flicked his novelty print lighter closed.

"I don’t know man." He muttered around his cigarette as he balanced it in the crook of his mouth. Kyo watched the hand rolled cigarette, fascinated, as the stick of tobacco bounced over the taller boy’s cracked bottom lip as he spoke. He was struck by a curious thought. Die would die of cancer before he did and all because of those damn filter-less hick cigs the redhead insisted on smoking.

Shifting forward Die shoved the cheap lighter unceremoniously into his back pocket as he pulled the cigarette from his mouth. With a short lazy puff he blew the contents of his lungs across the walk way. "It’s just, school‘s been back for a couple weeks and we haven’t done anything to rein in the freshmen. This time last year you would have given half the new bloods swirlies or something."

Kyo grunted dismissively with a pointed shrug of his shoulders. Die did have a point, though he wouldn’t openly admit it. Kyo still had his pride after all. He couldn’t deny that they hadn’t done anything to let the newbies know just who they were since school had gone back. But if he were honest with himself Kyo didn’t really care. Not if he really thought about it. He had established enough of a reputation amongst the continuing students that stories of his exploits would filter down to the freshmen. So if his best friend since primary school was so keen to shake down some first years then he was more than welcome to, alone.

"Seriously man, where has 'Kyo' gone?" the taller boy gestured searchingly for emphasis. The end of his cigarette sprinkling ash over his hand as he waved it about. "Did something happen during break that you haven’t told me about, or what?" he looked over to his best friend with a concerned crease between his eyebrows.

Kyo knew what a look like that meant. It meant Die was genuinely worried.

Had Kyo really been so unlike himself these past few weeks?

Kyo dropped his arm and casually flicked the ash from the end of his burnt out cigarette. Another one wasted. This time he had only managed two drags before he had lost his taste for it. To his right he could feel Die’s eyes on him, watching as he ground the seared butt into the concrete and reached for another. Kyo didn’t have to look to know that Die was shaking his head. Kyo had never been one for wasting cigarettes and here he was going for another after he had just let one burn away in his fingers.

It was better to ignore the look on his friend’s face. It would only make Kyo feel uneasy if he faced it, make him feel guilty in some unexplainable way. He brought up his cigarette bearing hand to scratch at his temple. Nothing had happened over break, well nothing out of the ordinary or anything worth noting. It had been one of the more boring school breaks he’d ever had. So he didn’t know where 'Kyo' had gone or why. All he knew was that his rebellious alter ego had been slowly fading away for a while now. So slowly that he almost didn’t notice it, but now that he had it felt as though it was only a matter of time before 'Kyo' completely disappeared.

Maybe his boredom over the summer had drained him of his usual energy for delinquency, manifesting as apathy. Or maybe he had been in this game too long and was losing his drive. Either way he felt like he was running on auto-pilot, just going through the moves but not really feeling anything and it was obviously showing.

His normally matte blonde hair was showing signs of regrowth, something the 'Kyo' Die knew would have never allowed. His hair was his only vanity and he maintained its blonde state almost obsessively. Regrowth was evil incarnate when it came to his hair. And yet...

The furrow in Die’s brow deepened as he watched his best friend ignore him. It wasn’t like Kyo to be so indifferent about things and it worried him to see the blonde retracting into himself right in front of his eyes. Die had noticed over the weeks since the semester had started that Kyo seemed to be losing interest in things around him to the point that his best friend barely spoke to him anymore.

Conversations between them begun to feel forced and only came about if Die started them. It was out of character. Kyo used to be easy to talk to and proactive in his uniquely reserved way. He would always have an opinion (even if he never raved on about it), always wanted to be doing something, always played off Die’s quirks and jabs rather than just dragging himself along like he was now.

"Ky-"

Die paused and turned his head to look back up the walkway as a group of first years rounded the corner, laughing and speaking animatedly amongst themselves. None of them noticed the two seniors indulging in a pre-school cigarette until a raven-haired boy towards the back of the group looked up and spotted Kyo and Die leaning against the wall.

"Guys!"

The entire group came to a halt less than a few meters from the older boys. As they did Die’s whole body followed the turn of his head. Kyo didn’t need to read minds to know that Die saw this as their opportunity to ‘break-in’ some first years. If he wasn’t the notorious delinquent he was Kyo would have felt sorry for the five boys that had wondered into their domain.

"Well, what do we have here?" Die began, pushing himself arrogantly from the wall, making a show of taking a drag on his cigarette before tossing it aside.

Most people would have laughed the display off as a bluff and rightly so. There wasn’t much of Die on a good day when he wasn’t strung out on the last dregs of whatever he’d done the night before. Constant partying and general disregard for his own health had whittled the red-head down to nothing more than a borderline anorexic frame. Kind of pathetic looking really when seen close up. His clothes hid the fact that the veins in his arms protruded more than could be considered healthy and that his last few pairs of ribs showed.

Despite that Kyo knew these boys would have a tough time with Die because the blonde knew something most people didn’t. Die was a hell of a lot stronger than he looked and about four times as reckless. A well nourished childhood and an old school up bringing had set the red-head up with an obscenely durable bone structure and a frighteningly extensive knowledge of martial combat. While years as a teen delinquent and one too many advantageous drunken escapades had dulled his response to pain to the point that Kyo occasionally wondered if it even existed anymore.

If the group was smart they’d turn tail now.

"Looks like we have some stray first-years, who’ve lost their way, doesn’t it Kyo?"

"That it does Die." Kyo muttered apathetically around his second cigarette, watching his best friend’s back from the corner of his eye. He wasn’t in the mood for a fight. But with Die itching to do what he did best odds were whether Kyo was involved or not fists would fly.

"Who says we’re lost?" A blonde with a faux-hawk piped up.

Obviously they weren’t smart, Kyo sighed to himself.

Dropping the half smoked cigarette from his fingers, Kyo ground the end into the ground and looked up at the group for the first time. "We do." He answered pointedly. There was no harm in keeping up the theatrics of the confrontation that Die had already established.

Kyo didn’t even raise an eyebrow when he got a proper look at the group. They were exactly what he expected. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that on appearance alone they weren’t all that dissimilar to Kyo and Die - though Die would argue that they were nothing more than a bunch of pretty boy posers. They all had the same lack of respect for school regulations regarding personal presentation that Die and Kyo had - sporting illegal piercings and dye jobs – coupled with an overconfident air of arrogance in the way they stood facing off against their seniors.

The raven-haired one stood out the side. His body set at an angle. The way he looked at Die and Kyo side long with his head slightly tilted emphasized the disdain with which he regarded them. His long black hair followed the line of his neck to where it tickled the edge of his protruding collar bone. A handful of garish red hair extensions broke up the matte of his natural colour, highlighting the pinkish undertone of his pursed lips. All the buttons - barring the middle two - on his school jacket and the shirt beneath had been left undone, exposing his chest and lower stomach. Around his waist a studded belt held his pants up and drew deliberate attention to the young man's sterling silver navel piercing.

He made Kyo think of the young men on the billboards and neon panels outside host clubs. With the way he held himself the he could pass for early twenties if he wanted to. And for a moment kKyo wondered if the young man wasn’t on a sign outside some seedy establishment already, despite the fact he was obviously underage.

The tall caramel blonde to the raven’s left was probably a co-worker as well as a classmate. His shoulder length hair had been teased and styled deliberately to give him a windswept look, strands of hair criss-crossed at awkward angles fell effortlessly over his right eye. Kyo would bet anything that the guy went through at least a can of hairspray every morning. The sleeves of his jacket were tied casually around his hips, emphasizing the slim cut of his frame. The cuffs of his shirt undone and rolled back while a nondescript tie that was not part of the uniform hung loose from his neck.

A baby faced brunette with a lop-sided smirk leant comfortably against the blonde, his arm absently thrown around the taller boy’s shoulders. His school jacket thrown lazily over his shoulder of his unoccupied arm, finger looped through the label.  That hair. Kyo'd never seen so many dreadlocks – and fake ones at that – in his life. If it wasn’t obvious that the hair piece needed something to attach to Kyo would have assumed the kid was bald and had decide to hide the fact under the head of a dirty jumbo mop.

The mouthy faux-hawk blonde at the front of the group mirrored Kyo's posture, cracking his knuckles and neck with a roll of his shoulders. His spiked faux-hawk barely moving as he did so. He had the worst dye job Kyo had ever seen. A haphazard patchwork mix of blacks, browns and blonde, like a blind man had done it and had made no effort to ensure that he had applied the peroxide evenly.

But that wasn’t the worst of the young man’s look. He had obviously fallen into the trap of gangster fashion, opting to buy his school pants a couple sizes too big so he had to hold them in place just below his hips with a pair of chained belts, effectively placing the crotch of his pants just above his knees.

Talk about over compensating.

His sleeves had been shucked up past his elbows to make a show of his muscular forearms and on both hands he wore a pair of finger-less, leather thug gloves. It was a no brainer to see that this guy was the brawn of the group.

A pipsqueak brunette barely taller than Kyo stood to the faux-hawk’s left with his arms folded across his chest, his head cocked slightly as he seized the two seniors up. He probably thought the asymmetrical streak of red that cut through his hair from the back of his head to his bangs made him a real hard ass.

It reminded Kyo of a skunk.

A skunk with a jewellery fetish.

It was obvious that the cause of the brunette’s vertical handicap was the sheer amount of silver he had weighing him down. Rows of heavy platinum sleepers followed the lines of his ears and a pair of thick hoops danced from their place hanging from his over-sized gauges.

Through the ‘v’ in the open collar of the junior's shirt Kyo could see at least three separate chains and a leather stud choker. More leather and studs were wrapped around his wrists and no less than half his fingers sported a ring of some description. Yet somehow despite all the pointless metal weighing him down the short-ass freshman managed to exude more arrogance than the rest of the group combined.

"And who are you when you’re at home?" the shorty sneered, stepping forward to accept Kyo’s challenge. The hint of a malicious smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he tilted his head forward and pulled himself up to his full height. Not that it made much difference.

With a raise of an eyebrow he looked down his nose at Kyo and the senior felt his hackles twitch. There was something behind the brunette’s electric blue contacts that made his stomach tighten angrily. And for a split second Kyo's hand clenched by his side. He wanted to drive his fist into the brunette’s broad nose and shatter that look as a spark of the 'Kyo' he thought he’d lost resurfaced. No one looked at him like that and got away with it.

"Oh, I’ll school you well in who we are midget." Die stepped forward to stand over the freshman as he cracked his knuckles. "Upstart freshmen like yourself need to learn your place." And with that Die went for the gut shot, but the small brunette wasn’t slow. Even before the red-head’s fist could get within an uncomfortable range the smug brunette had stepped aside and deflected the punch, grabbing the taller boy's slender wrist he skirted behind the older boy and forced his arm up between his shoulder blades.

Just as another cocky smirk was beginning to cross the brunette’s face the elbow of Die’s free arm drove into the side of his jaw. Startled the smaller young man let go of the red-head’s wrist and stumbled back into a waiting Kyo.

Without a thought Kyo pounced on the disorientated brunette. Curling his arms up under the younger boy’s arms he locked his hands behind his captive's head, effectively immobilizing him. A lance of anger tightened the senior’s arms, forcing the brunette to bow his head to relieve the increasing pressure to the back of his neck.

"Let me go, mother fucker." The brunette hissed through grit teeth - the blow to his jaw obviously causing him pain – as he reached behind his head, clawing at Kyo's hands in an effort to break them apart.

Meanwhile Die turned his attention to the rest of the group.

"Who’s next? I promise to give the next one more than a dislocated jaw." Holding his arms out to his side Die welcomed the next challenger. "What about you, tough guy?" He jabbed his chin in the direction of the faux-hawk blonde, who seemed eager to take him up on his offer.

"Akira, enough." Faux-hawk stopped mid-step. "We’ve got music first period this morning." The mop head behind him continued. "I don’t want to be late because of some petty fight with these losers. Com’on Taka."

Steering the pouty blonde under his arm away, the tall brunette turned his back on the scene and walked away, the young man at his side gingerly slipping an arm around his waist as they rounded the corner. Not far behind the raven followed suit patting the faux-hawk’s shoulder as he left.

Watching the seniors dangerously the faux- hawk blonde stayed behind for a moment, waiting for his friend.

Even though the confrontation was over part of Kyo didn’t really want to let his captive go. The look the younger man had given him had gotten him angry and trying to keep hold of the feisty brunette had gotten his adrenaline pumping. For the first time since school had gone back Kyo felt like his old self. The Kyo that beat kids up for no real justifiable reason other than he felt like it; the Kyo that did not and would not take disrespect from wannabe punks.

Kyo reveled in the new found energy pumping through his veins. It was like a drug, a drug he couldn’t believe he’d lost interest in. He didn’t want to let the excitement go, he wouldn’t. That was until the boy in his arms drove the heel of his shoe into Kyo’s shin. With a violent curse Kyo let him go solely out of reflex, watching angrily as the brunette and faux-hawk blonde stalked away after their friends.

As quickly as it had flared up the burn in the base of Kyo's stomach began to dissipate and the adrenaline wound down. His desire to go after the little brunette and drive his smug face into the pavement slowly died away. In that moment as he watched the brunette and his friend round the corner Kyo’s apathy towards his position as the school’s top delinquent returned and lethargy reclaimed its hold on him. Once again 'Kyo' was gone, but the residue of the rush still tingled in his veins.

 

~~~

 

Takanori groaned lowly as he pushed the ice pack Yuu had flogged from the sick bay for him against his jaw. Despite the pain the bone wasn’t broken or fractured. It just felt like it had when the stick-frame bastard drove the pointed end of his elbow into the side of his face. But that didn’t faze Taka. It was part and parcel with being a delinquent. Fights and the injuries that came with them were expected.

No, what really got to Takanori was the lanky fuck’s midget buddy.

The brunette had heard a lot about the two seniors, Kyo and Die, and how they pretty much had the school population by the balls. Needless to say he had expected something a lot more impressive than the five-foot-barely-anything blonde and the stick insect redhead.

In a word he was disappointed.

Takanori and his friends had attended the feeder middle school and as a result knew of the pair well before beginning their year as freshmen. They’d heard the rumours and awed over the gossip, particularly Takanori. More than anyone else in their group the small brunette had held the myth surrounding the pair in high esteem. What he would give the have had the gall to do half the shit they had done in their short eighteen years.

But like they always say its best not to meet your idols. Not that Takanori idolized the seniors. He simply held them in high regard, saw them as something he could work to surpass. So when he finally faced them a part of him realized the bar that he had set from himself hadn’t been set as high as he thought. Sure Die seemed to pose a threat, but Kyo was barely even a shadow of what Takanori thought he’d be.

He saw it in the way the older boy slumped against the wall as he drank down his cigarette, heard it in the disinterested drawl of his voice, read it in his eyes when the blonde finally looked over Takanori’s group. The senior looked tired, drained, and apathetic. To Takanori he looked old, lifeless.

Takanori hated it, from the ugly black regrowth that was beginning to show through the older boy’s tangled straw coloured hair to the hint of facial hair on his chin. None of it seemed worth the respect he once had for Kyo. It was all wrong and Takanori couldn’t figure out why.

As the small brunette sat at the front of the practice room fuming from his seat on a disused amplifier the rest of his friends were wrapping up practice.

Behind the drum kit Akira jiggled his knee impatiently, twisting the drums sticks in his fingers absent-mindedly as he worked out the last of his energy. Yutaka and Yuu were rolling up the guitar and mic leads respectively while Kouyou packed his precious custom purple bass away.

No matter how many times he had seen the blonde with his bass it still amazed Takanori how much the taller boy babied his instrument. Kouyou didn’t let any one touch it, not even Yutaka, and it always came out of its case looking like it was brand new.

"How’s your jaw, Ta-chan?" Akira asked as he sat down next to the brunette - hands clasped, elbows perched on his knees and drum sticks stuffed in his back pocket. Normally Takanori would have the head of anyone who had called him Ta-chan, but he had known Akira since his first year of primary school. This had earned the blonde the unofficial right to get away with still using Takanori’s childhood nickname.

Peeling the ice pack from his face Takanori waited for the pain to start up again. When it only came back as a dull throb he sat the half-melted pack down. "Never been better." He bit back sarcastically as he pushed the heel of his palm into the side of his jaw. Akira laughed and slapped his hand on the brunette’s back amiably.

"Believe me man. I would have had your back if…" He trialed off as Yutaka made his way over.

"Those relics weren’t worth our time." The rhythm guitarist cut in as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Yutaka wasn’t their ‘leader’ in the truest sense of the word. But everyone else in the band had over time placed more value in what he had to say. Not because he was the oldest or strongest, but because it just seemed to come naturally. The welfare of the others and the consequences of their actions were an almost ingrained part of Yutaka’s thought processes and he kept his head where Takanori or Akira would dive in fists flying, no questions asked.

Yutaka walked at the back of the group keeping everybody in sight, Takanori and his blonde best friend took the head of the pack. In the early days of their friendship Takanori had wondered whether or not Yutaka was really cut out to be a delinquent, what with the way he cared about people. But he soon learned that care only went so far. And to be perfectly honest, Takanori was glad he fell within that small sphere.

"So what, think about how our rep would have improved if we’d taken out _the_ Die and Kyo. They are fucking infamous. Kicking their asses would have made us fucking kings of the school." Takanori retorted. He and Akira were the only ones that ever really spoke back to Yutaka, which Yutaka usually never took personally.

Most days Yuu was pretty indifferent to the idea of challenging Yutaka and tended to just go with flow when it came to group dynamics. He was the versatile one, able to be on good terms with everybody at any given time, though there had been a couple times back in their middle school days when the typically laidback vocalist had thrown a punch or two at his friends. 

Finished with the ritualistic packing away of his bass Kouyou snaked up behind his partner and slipped his hands around Yutaka's waist as he gingerly fitted his chin into the curve of shorter young man's neck and shoulder.

"I know he has a point, Kou." Yutaka sighed, answering Kouyou’s silent comment as he raised his hand to stroke the side of the blonde’s face. It still amazed Takanori that the two of them could have a whole conversation between themselves like this, without the blonde muttering a word.

Nuzzling affectionately into Yutaka’s dreadlocks Kouyou gently tightened his hold on the young man’s waist.

"Ok, but only if you’re actually going to eat this time." Kouyou pouted indignantly against the heel of Yutaka’s hand and the brunette laughed. "In case you’ve forgotten, Kou. The last time I paid for your lunch you never even ate it."

"don’t tell me that old nutter by the park swindled you out of your money again." Yuu called out over his shoulder as he hung up all the cables and leads they’d used. Indignantly Kouyou pulled his head from Yutaka’s shoulder and shot the vocalist a nasty glare, but the dark haired young man never got the chance to see it before Yutaka reprimanded his partner with a slap to the back of the bassist’s hand.

"Be nice Kou." Yutaka muttered playfully as he twisted to face Kouyou, carding his hand through his partner's hair.

Takanori looked away and made a show of grasping his throat as he gagged and spluttered pretending to dry reach. Beside him Akira laughed, while Yuu rolled his eyes with an exaggerated disapproving sigh. They all knew how Takanori felt about the pair’s displays of public affection and the sappy couple in question had learned to take his jabs in stride. They ignored his not so subtle protests with a chaste kiss, hands finding their way to each other’s hips as they kissed again, moulding their mischievous smiles together.

With a disgusted groan Takanori stood and left the room, the laughter of the drummer and vocalist following him out. Seconds later Akira caught up with him, and dropped a hand onto best friend’s shoulder in an effort to stop him, but Takanori just kept walking.

"You need to learn to loosen up, Ta-chan." Takanori could still hear the remnants of laughter of in the blonde drummer’s voice as he fell into pace beside him. "You know they only do that to get a rise out of you. The more you react the more of a kick they get out of it."

Takanori scoffed. "I’m glad. Since we all know how much I enjoy being a source of entertainment."

"Hey, I’m just calling it as I see it. No need to take your post break-up angst out on me-" Akira stepped back raising his hands defensively as Takanori shot him a look.

"I haven’t told them anything, I swear." He added quickly, knowing what Takanori was likely thinking.

The lead guitarist hadn’t taken the failure of his last relationship all that well. To the point that he'd refused to tell anyone that Mao was no longer in the picture, and all of them, except for Akira, thought nothing to the contrary.

The truth was Mao had tired of Takanori and moved onto more, quote, ‘emotionally mature’ partners.

After a long moment reading his friend’s face Takanori turned away with an aggravated huff and started back down the hall again. This time Akira didn’t follow. Instead he just stood and watched as his best friend walked away.

"Taka, you really need to –"

Takanori never heard the end of what his friend was trying to say as he rounded the corner, but he knew what it would be. The drummer had been a broken record the last month and a half, telling him that he needed to find an outlet for all the pent up anger and frustration that was festering away in the bottom of his chest.

Despite appearances Akira could be quite the understanding, perceptive individual. He was the only one out of the group to pick up on the subtle shortening of Takanori’s temper and the extra tension in his shoulders. And had been the only one to bother asking what was wrong. That was Akira in a nut shell. Blunt and at times tactless, but someone you could trust to ask the important questions when it counted. Takanori seriously wondered sometimes how he managed to find such a good friend because most days he probably didn’t deserve one like Akira.

Regardless of how dismissive and short he could be with his best friend, Takanori really did appreciate Akira and everything he said or did, even if he didn’t show it. And a part of him knew that Akira was right, he had to find a way to channel his anger. He needed to let out all of the resentment he held towards Mao and more importantly himself.

 

~~~

 

It was fifth period and Kyo was skipping, which was neither unusual, nor note-worthy for Kyo. Really, he could do worse in his sleep and indeed had done one memorable day in his second year. That particular in-class nap had landed him with a two day suspension. Normally the memory of events such as that would have would have brought a devilishly sheepish smile to the blonde’s face, but today he couldn’t seem to find anything amusing about it.

The craving for his third cigarette of the day had won out over his non-existent desire to actually attend class. So through force of habit he slunk off to his and Die’s usual hang out between the library and the assembly hall to suck down another tar-laced menthol cigarette. Squatting down against the wall, elbows perched on his knees, Kyo watched the ash crumble from the end of his cigarette.

After the first drag he’d suddenly lost his craving for nicotine and once again couldn’t bring himself to finish it off. Three wasted cigarettes. Even Kyo’s dense occasional friend/acquaintance Tosh would see it as an obvious sign that something was bugging him. Kyo scoffed at the thought of Tosh putting on his psych student glasses and ‘reading’ him. The self-centered smart ass would probably enjoy it too.

The idea of getting someone to look at him and tell him what he wanted – since it obviously wasn’t cigarettes – held some appeal for Kyo. Because even though he lived with himself twenty-four-seven he was completely hopeless at this whole ‘understanding yourself’ bullshit. Introversion and self-reflection were never things he had actively engaged in until recently and his lack of practice was showing. Fifteen minutes into his contemplation of why he continued to crave and then suddenly lose interest in his precious cigarettes he had gotten nowhere. At this rate his new inclination to light then burn out his cigarettes was going to get very expense very soon.

As he stared at the glowing embers try and fail to grab hold of the synthetic filter stuck between his fingers Kyo suddenly imagined stubbing them out; grinding them mercilessly into the arrogant face of one particular brunette first year. That would be a rush. Maybe that’s what he wanted, another hit of the excitement he’d felt this morning.

He didn’t look up at the sound of approaching footsteps. It was most likely Die anyway coming to join him for a mid-day cigarette.

 

~~~

 

Takanori was doing it again: thinking about Mao. Wondering where he was, what he was doing and with whom. Pointless things that would only stir up rotten feelings in his chest. Today was not turning into a good day. He had managed to go half a week without dwelling on thoughts of his ex, but Akira’s flippant comment had triggered a plague of ‘what if’ scenarios in Takanori’s mind.

What if he’d been older by twelve months? Or even six?

What if Mao had been younger?

What if he had been more ‘mature’?

What if –

Takanori stopped. Just ahead someone was crouched down by the wall. Looking closer he realised that it was Kyo. Something about the way the senior was hunched over his knees watching his cigarette burn away made Takanori want to shake his head in dismay. The senior looked so pathetic, nothing like his reputation made him out to be. He didn’t even look up as Takanori walked over to him.

"You’re fucking pathetic you know that?" Takanori couldn’t help himself. The bitter taste of disillusionment in the back of his mouth let the thought slip his lips before his rational mind had a chance to filter it.

Kyo looked up with a start and the apathetic expression on his face changed in the blink of an eye to one of aggravation. "Like I give a flying fuck what a punk-ass freshmen like you thinks of me." Kyo growled lowly as he stood, crumpling his cigarette in his hand before tossing it aside. "You’re just a fucking kid." Takanori tensed. ‘A pans –‘

Kyo never got to finish his insult before the younger man’s fist was connecting with his upper cheek bone.

"I’m not a fucking kid!"

Takanori could feel his fist trembling in the scruff of the older boy's shirt as he pushed Kyo back into the wall.

Using his weight to keep the senior pinned he looked his captive in the face and it dawned on him why he had disliked Kyo from the moment he met him.

That hair... those words.

_You’re just a fucking kid._

It was a petty reason to hate someone and an even more pathetic reason to hit them, but the validity of his reasons didn’t matter to Takanori. All that mattered was that he had one.

Kyo reminded him of Mao.

 

~~~

 

Caught off guard Kyo wheeled back hand reflexively flying to his bruised face, before the brunette’s hand twisted in the collar of his shirt and forced him back into the wall.

"I’m not a fucking kid." The brunette hissed at him angrily, his shoulders tense as he pushed the heel of his fist into Kyo’s sternum. Kyo could feel the tremble in the younger man’s hand as it pressed against his chest and resonated through to his spine. "I’m not."

Kyo smirked to himself as a now familiar twinge of excitement began to bubble up in his stomach.

Looks like he hit a nerve.


End file.
